


Could You Come Back Home?

by KilltheDJ



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blanket Permission, High School AU, i will never write more for this au, it. Uh. Not go well., thems dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 22:36:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20956028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilltheDJ/pseuds/KilltheDJ
Summary: Party Poison and the Kobra Kid- the brothers who started it all. The brothers who wrote the comic books that made Monroeville who they were - the artist and the writer.The comic books, that made the kids in a small town forget their real names, too gone into a world set in a Desert. Party Poison, the little boy who had become his creation. Kobra Kid, who had become his art.And Party Poison and the Kobra Kid, the two brothers with more secrets from each other than Monroeville had homes.





	Could You Come Back Home?

“Finally home?” Party asked, keeping his face carefully neutral and arms crossed, leaning against the doorway to the hallway.

Staring at his little brother, Kobra Kid, as he snuck in through his window, the red alarm clock reading 2:18 A.M. 

“Surprised you are too,” Kobra mumbled, glaring only slightly. Party couldn’t see all too well, the only light in the room from the hallway being blocked by his own body, but his brother looked haggard, tired. 

He got into a fight again, didn’t he? 

Party clenched his jaw and didn’t comment on Kobra’s remark. “It’s the middle of the night. And you just came home. Again.”

“Would you like me to sign a release form to leave the house?” Kobra rolled his eyes, but there wasn’t too much snark. He only sounded...tired. Party couldn’t blame him; even in the dim lighting, Party could see the black eye, the bruised knuckles. 

He needed to be neutral. Kobra didn’t need him upset, Party was going to get too worked up if he allowed himself to be anything but neutral. Neutral, neutral, neutral. “I’d like you to come back before the middle of the night, actually. You can’t disappear for hours and skip school.”

“What are you, my mother?” Kobra scoffed. “Or isn’t she passed out downstairs?”

Party took a deep breath. He shouldn’t be snapping at his brother, he shouldn’t, again, neither of them needed that. But he wanted too. Kobra was testing him and pressing his buttons. “Mentioning Mom is uncalled for. Either way, you need to come back home before 2 in the morning!”

“Do I, really? If I’m remembering correctly, you’re almost never home in the middle of the night, either. At least I stay gone, you just sneak out the window,” Kobra hummed, a bite to his tone despite how casual it sounded. “Have you realized you can walk out the door yet?”

Party refused to take the bait; he knew Kobra was trying to get him to yell or scream or do anything other than stay calm. Kobra always did that when he was frustrated and didn’t want Party to know why.

Maybe Party didn’t even care about the sneaking out anymore. Maybe he only cared about being so damn alone all the time - only reason he left at night wasn’t to go out and be a delinquent, it was to know the world was still alive when he was left practically alone. It wasn’t like Kobra was ever home and - and that hurt Party more than he liked to admit. 

All he wanted was his brother. If he could change one thing in the entire universe, one specific thing, he would wish to have his brother home.

“One night of the week,” Party started, voice low, not threatening, not upset, keeping as much hurt out of his voice as he could. Because his hurt always turned into venom. “That’s it. One night of the week, dinner. And this is the third time you’ve missed it this month.”

Kobra smiled, one of those smiles obviously laced with passive aggression or just plain annoyance. Party couldn’t tell which it was, because Kobra was Kobra, and it was difficult to tell body language when Kobra was standing there, almost daring Party to move first. “Stop acting like you’re so much better than me. Stop pretending you fucking care if I come home.”

There was no hurt, not in Kobra’s voice (the one thing Party knew the tells of). No hurt, only exasperation, and resignation. 

Did Kobra honestly think Party didn’t care? When all Party ever wanted was...well, not all he wanted, but the one thing that topped all his other wants - having his brother. He’d made that point already, came to the conclusion in his head.

He wanted to ask Kobra if that was true. That Kobra thought Party wouldn’t care if he didn’t come home one day. Instead, what came out was quiet, scathing, the guise of neutrality long gone, the regret tasting bitter on his tongue the moment the syllables left. “Maybe you shouldn’t come back. What would change?”

The tension in the room was palpable. Or maybe that was the emotions swirling around and around in Party’s head and throwing off all his senses. 

Kobra broke eye contact first, for the first time since he’d come in through the window. Still through the window, despite having told Party he could just walk through the door if he so chose. He looked away, silence painting him as just another ghost and the lighting painting him as an illusion, back to the window, back to exactly where Party told him he never should’ve left.

Oh God. What did he do?

“Y’know what?” Kobra started, a breathy laugh filling the silence for only half a second. His gaze switched rapidly from Party to the window. “I won’t. Take your stupid family dinner and burn it. I have a shift to work, anyway.”

Before Party could ask Kobra to repeat any of that, half for meaning and half because he was sure he might not have heard it right, Kobra was slinging the backpack by his bedside over his shoulder.

He gave a salute, out the window before Party could recognize he was leaving, he wasn’t joking, he really was going to lose his brother - 

Party heard cursing come right after a drop into the yard. He knew he should go after his brother, his little baby brother, the one person he wanted to have by his side. He knew Kobra probably needed his knuckles bandaged and disinfectant. 

But there he found himself, unable to move. Unable to go after his brother. Unable to process he’d told that same brother he wished more than anything was home more often to not come home again. 

And there, there Party realized: he was always going to be the catalyst. The catalyst for a trend or a tragedy. Or, more traditionally, the catalyst that broke his family.

His grandma and mother never talked because his grandma thought he wasn’t being raised right. His mother started to drink incessantly because it was too much to handle having a kid and a full-time job. His father left because he couldn’t handle his mother’s drinking. And now Kobra was going to be gone, too. It was all Party’s fault, again. He was going to lose his brother, and there was nothing he could do besides take back his spat venom - 

Still, he couldn’t move.

**Author's Note:**

> HERE YOU GO. MY SNIPPET. THOUGHTS OF THIS NOT-TO-BE AU


End file.
